A Solemn Vow
by Tenarus
Summary: A brief examination of the relationship between Eowyn and Faramir, as takes place on the night of their wedding...
1. A Promise in the Dark

Disclaimer: I don't own them; I only borrow them for a time in order to bend them to my infinitely cruel and twisted, malicious will. Alas, dear Professor, forgive me!  
  
  
  
It was the deep of night in the middle of summer, and within the walls of Minas Tirith, numerous pleased citizens slept off the effects of the day's merriments. The city had been bustling anew with activity in preparation for the nuptials of their Steward and the Lady Éowyn of Rohan. The day was especially significant for the King and Queen, due to their blossoming relationship with the couple. In fact, the Lady Arwen herself had been writing regularly to Éowyn since the courageous heroine of Pelennor Fields had departed for Rohan with her brother, Éomer; and it was certainly well- known that King Elessar loved Faramir as his own brother and that the feeling was mutual for the Prince of Ithilien. Indeed, since the War of the Ring was won, the people of Gondor had begun to learn of the great deeds their Steward had accomplished, and an immense pride had swelled within them.  
  
Yet, Faramir had remained as modest and coy as he always had been, and was ever reproachful of excessive praise directed towards him. It was the shy dignity that most endeared him to those he knew.  
  
Éowyn smiled and curled beside her sleeping husband as tightly as she could. All about her, the room was still, and its quiet peace seemed to be seeping into every inch of her bones. Many times in her life she had seen happy days, though not so long ago they were difficult to recall. Nevertheless, those days had now passed, a new life awaited her that would be full of cherished memories, and she was quite certain that the cause of the vast majority of those would be Faramir.  
  
She sighed aloud as she thought of him. He could be so sweet and kind that if it were possible, she felt her heart would burst within her chest. He had a way with her that none other before him ever acquired. It seemed that his tender, piercing eyes could gaze into the deepest recesses of her soul, and could discern every concern and desire within. His touch was as silk against her body and even the thought of his hands upon her skin caused goose bumps to appear. However, the most wondrous aspect of Faramir, Éowyn concluded, was his heart. For no man who walked upon the shores of Arda possessed a heart likened to Faramir's. It held within it strength as great as any warrior and a gentleness that could cause the most callous, hardened spirit to soften. That same sensitive heart had saved her from the Darkness in the days following the departure of the King to Mordor. Faramir had shown her greater love than she had ever fathomed could exist in a person, and his wisdom, honesty, and compassion had broken the coldness that had so desperately clung to her heart.  
  
When looking back to that time, it now seemed as if she was a completely different person - completely different, and yet the same. It never ceased to amaze her how much change had occurred in her since those melancholy days in the Houses of Healing, where she first met the man who now lay beside her. He had been an incredibly bright light to her in what was one of the most impossibly difficult times of her life. What the hands of a King could not heal, the love of Faramir, Captain of the Ithilian Rangers, had mended.  
  
Gently brushing her fingers along his bare chest, Éowyn sighed, and it did not escape her mind at how sad he, too, had been at that time. For all of his life, Faramir had borne a weight upon his shoulders that would have crushed any lesser a man. She knew that even though she had been the one who had slain the great Captain of the Nazgûl, humble, reserved Faramir was all the greater. Therefore as she was loved and held dear in the hearts of many, he had suffered cruelty at the hand of his father and had never been held in high esteem by those who mattered most.  
  
It was true that she had heard the rumblings and rumors that had spread throughout the city since the Steward Denethor had burned himself upon his pyre, though never did she truly believe them true until she saw him that day in the Houses. His eyes had ever borne the heaviness of memory, and upon each mention of his father's name, Faramir seemed to flinch as if struck. It bewildered Éowyn that the sweet and gentle man who was now her husband, was never truly appreciated for the wonderful person he was. Instead, he constantly faced comparison to his older brother, Boromir, and was demeaned and neglected by his father. How could it be that a father could not love a son so devoted, as was Faramir?  
  
Éowyn felt tears stinging her eyes and a great rage flamed within her. It was not right that he had been so poorly treated, and if it took every breath within her slender frame, she would see that all the damage done him by his father was properly mended. That was now her conflict, the ultimate test of her heart's merit. It would be no longer that she would bear herself into the fire and chaos of combat. Instead, tenderness and affection for her husband would be her sharpened blade, and her buckler would be the unceasing love for him that threatened at times to devour her entirely.  
  
"My sweet, beautiful Faramir," Éowyn whispered gently, stroking his stubbled cheek. "I will hold your heart within my own hands as if it were the most precious gem upon the earth, even as one of the Silmarils of old. I will give unto you children to soothe your long-burdened injuries, and I will kiss you and love you until even the most accursed of memories has fled from your mind. This do I, Éowyn, sister-daughter to Théoden, 17th King of the Rohirrim and sister to Éomer, First King of the Second Line, pledge to you."  
  
A shaky breath escaped her lips, and at that moment, Éowyn felt on the verge of tears and choked back a sob that threatened to escape her throat. It tore at her to think of Faramir being so mistreated, and if it were in her power, she would have moved the stars in the sky just to ensure that the joy she had seen in him at their wedding remained.  
  
He had been so happy and it had delighted her heart to see him so. Yet, before she had departed with Éomer for Rohan after the wedding of the King, she had seen in Faramir a glimpse of the old sadness lingering within him. At the time, she had been bearing her standard of pride at full mast, and had not dared show how her heart cried out in agony that some of that old pain remained. When they had said their goodbyes and she was at last left alone, with the exception of the Queen, Éowyn cried openly at his state. Arwen, for the good in her heart, had pledged that she and Aragorn would keep close watch over Faramir and that they would notify her if anything seemed amiss with him.  
  
Nothing in the whole of the world held more importance to her than the well being of her husband; and that sentiment, which once upon a time would have seemed foreign, found home in her heart. It seemed that Éowyn, Shield- maiden of the Mark, had a heart swelled unto overflowing with love and she poured onto Faramir all that it contained. Though, there were some areas of life in which her aggressive nature were of infinite usefulness.  
  
A wicked smile formed upon her face as she remembered the conversation they had shared ere one hour ago, which had followed the fieriest session of lovemaking in which they had engaged during the long night.  
  
"One of these days, you shall be the death of me," he had panted fiercely, and yet a smile had lurked upon his handsome features. "Although, I could hope for no better end."  
  
Éowyn had grinned ear to ear as she collapsed onto the bed beside him and attempted to catch her breath; then she sighed and turned to him, answering, "Nor could I, my love. I believe that I could live and die within the warmth of your embrace."  
  
Faramir's face then softened, and he smiled delicately at his beautiful wife. "You are a remarkable woman, Éowyn of Rohan, and I shall never understand how one such as myself ever came to deserve your fancy."  
  
Éowyn's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets at his words. "'One such as myself?'" she echoed, scoffing at the thought. "Do you truly believe yourself to be unworthy of my love, Faramir?"  
  
Unable to voice his answer, he simply gazed at her. As he did, the sadness and uncertainty that he had exhibited in the Houses of Healing and then the day she had departed the White City returned to his eyes. It seemed as if his very soul was weeping from within, and Éowyn felt as if her heart was being torn from her chest. Tears stung her eyes and as she returned his gaze, she allowed them to fall freely. She then took his face between her hands and gently brushed her thumb under his eye.  
  
"Hear me now, Faramir, son of Denethor - my husband and beloved," she said, her voice firm, yet full of compassion. "No man in this wide realm could ever be judged more worthy of this woman's love than thee, neither could be found one as admirable as you even in my brother's house. For you are honorable, brave, kind, tenderhearted, and gentle beyond the capacity of understanding, though it may be that in all your life you have never seen any of these things returned unto you. And yet, I say to thee, I shall return them all in full."  
  
Éowyn watched closely as his brow tightened, her heart broke to see tears welling up in his eyes, and his chin then began to tremble. Ever so gently, she maneuvered herself underneath him, and rested his face against her breast as if he were a child; and she did kiss the top of his head and stroke his hair as he wept against her.  
  
"O, my darling husband!" she cried out. "Who has wounded you so grievously that you now shed these tears upon our bed, which is made of love?"  
  
Some time later, he had recounted in full a number of tragic stories from his childhood, and told her of his father's abuse and neglect. After hearing his tale, she had vowed to him that for every foul word his father had ever spoken to him, she would utter tenfold of love and devotion; and as she cradled him in her arms, she whispered sweet nothings into his ear, and he soon fell into slumber. Only then did Éowyn allow herself to cry.  
  
After her senses had returned to her, she had laid him beside her, and had taken great care not to awaken him. Thus, it was that she found herself now watching over him, and after many minutes had passed, Éowyn laid her head down beside that of her husband, and whispered a prayer to the Valar on his behalf as she fell into sleep.  
  
  
  
A/N - This is the first piece of work I have published on this particular genre/subject, and it was written in haste, so I will welcome all helpful suggestions/comments. Review liberally and at your discretion! More may follow. 


	2. A Stolen Moment in the Queen's Garden

Disclaimer: I don't own them; I only borrow them for a time in order to bend them to my infinitely cruel and twisted, malicious will. Alas, dear Professor, forgive me!  
  
  
  
Chapter 2 - A Stolen Moment in the Queen's Gardens  
  
Many blissful months had passed since the wedding of Faramir to the Lady Éowyn, and now in midst of a waning autumn, they stood together in the Queen's garden, their faces alight with love, which burned as a brilliant fire within them. It had not been more than an hour since they had shared a quiet meal with the King and Queen, and as the day pressed forward, they had longed for a private moment. Therefore, they had stolen away to the Garden of Arwen Evenstar, which was tended with the greatest of care and attention, which was to be expected of a Daughter of the house of Elrond.  
  
A great number of extravagant plants and flowers grew within the luscious garden, indeed a great many were considered quite exotic among the peoples of the White City. This was Arwen's private refuge. It was a place where she could dwell in peace and quiet contemplation, forsaking the often tiresome and boring duties that were required of a Queen. Lush it was, and yet simplistic in it's beauty, for it bore the touch of an Elven hand.  
  
Éowyn inhaled deeply, and allowed the multitude of sweet, fragrant smells to fill her nostrils. She sighed and huddled into Faramir's embrace, pressing her body as tightly against his as was possible. "I love it here," she whispered, wedging her head under his chin. "'Tis so peaceful. I suppose this is her majesty's means of returning home to Rivendell, at least in memory."  
  
Faramir smiled sadly and stroked Éowyn's hair. "Aye, I expect it serves some like purpose, for rare shall be the occasion that our Queen is able to visit the lands of her kin, and never thus to arrive by her father's welcome. And so she must seek comforts of home wherever they may be found, and this place does bare forth vivid memory of the Last Homely House."  
  
Gazing up at her husband, Éowyn frowned and it once again occurred to her how great a choice Arwen had borne upon her shoulders and how much she had given up for the sake of love. She took Faramir's hand in her own, and said unto him: "A great price hath our Lady Arwen laid upon the altar of heart's content to give up so much as eternity for her love of our Lord and King."  
  
Faramir nodded solemnly, and then allowed a smile to form upon his face; and he answered her, saying: "Yet this sacrifice will bear much fruit, for the line of Kings shall be restored and the glory of Gondor returned. And even though the Evenstar must one day submit herself unto death, it will be accomplished with the knowledge of what was gained at infinity's expense: happiness in life and love everlasting, even beyond the cold, iron grips of doom of Man."  
  
Hearing his words caused Éowyn's face to soften, and she sighed and returned her head to Faramir's strong chest. "So gentle are you, my Lord- husband, and wise among men. The choice of my heart was, and ever shall be, well made."  
  
Faramir kissed the top of her head and smiled against the smoothness of her golden hair; and he thought to himself how well fortune had smiled upon him to bless his life with the presence of such a woman as Éowyn. Brave and noble was she, courageous, strong, and yet so vulnerable. She was fair and graceful to his eye, and beloved to his heart. Even since the moment he had first known her, he had loved her for her sadness; and when she had been healed, he loved her for her joy. There was of her he did not love, and he found it hard to imagine how she must think of him, adorning so much devotion and adoration upon her.  
  
Since they had been married and he had opened his heart to her, she had done the same to him, and he felt it his duty to shower upon her all the kindness and understanding his heart could possibly manage. For it seemed to him that even though she bore the outward armor of a warrior, deep within her, Éowyn was yet unsure of her own worth.  
  
Thus, it had been he had made purpose to include her in every aspect of his life. He had discussed the duties of his office with her at length, and to his delight, he found that his wife had a talent for the duties of administration. Many times he had sought her out for advice on matters of the Kingdom, even when he had fairly decided the proper course of action, and each time she had advised him according to his own machinations. Truly, her astuteness never ceased to amaze him.  
  
Yet for all the cleverness and charm she possessed, he found in her a lingering insecurity that was stubborn, and ever refused to fade completely, even though it had been greatly diminished. Faramir sighed, causing Éowyn to look upon his face in search of his troubles.  
  
"What bothers you, love?" she asked.  
  
"I shall never understand how I came to be so blessed in this life," he answered her, gently stroking her cheek with the palm of his hand. "You are a treasure greater than any for which I could ask. Tell me, do you know this, Éowyn? Can it be that you understand how beautiful and wondrous you are? Can you see how vast the love is, which my heart does hold for you?"  
  
Éowyn blushed under his praise and locked her eyes onto his; and with great care, she brushed the hair from his face and sighed. "Upon each blessed morn, I awaken to see the love of which you speak," she then answered. "And I tell you, Faramir, it sets my very heart to its rhythm. Therefore, I answer you, husband: yes, I know this, for I see it in your eyes; and yes, I understand this, for I feel it in your touch. With each day that passes, with each word of love you speak to me, my heart is healed ever more. So it is that we heal each other."  
  
"So it is," whispered Faramir, as his face drew nigh unto hers. When at last they came together, their lips met in a kiss, and for many a blessed moment, the world around them stood still, and all was right and good.  
  
It was onto this scene that Aragorn and Arwen intruded, walking hand-in- hand upon the pathways of the garden, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. They, too, had wished to take a respite from the bustle of palace life, and had sought out the sanctuary of the garden. Yet, when they spied the interlude before them, they remained quiet, and observed the couple from a distance, taking in the peace that the love of Éowyn and Faramir wrought.  
  
When at last the two lovers parted, Aragorn looked upon his close friend, and chuckled at what he saw. "Never have I seen a man so smitten with his lady as Faramir with Éowyn. He seems as if the light of the sun and the moon in the sky resides in her eyes. 'Tis strange to think this man the brother of Boromir."  
  
Arwen smirked, and her eyes twinkled with delight. "'Twas not so long in the past that another man, yet greater than the one you now see, wore such expressions upon his face, though I should say I do not believe them to have altogether departed."  
  
"Who is this man of which you speak?" Aragorn asked, raising a playful brow.  
  
"O! he is a man of great stature," the Queen answered, thoroughly enjoying their banter. "A Ranger of the North was he, and great toil did he undertake to ensure the safety of his people. He was quite charming, rugged, and dare I say, incredibly becoming.for a man."  
  
Arwen grinned brightly at Aragorn, and he gave a laugh. "You should introduce me to this fellow," he said in his mirth. "Rare is it that such praise is given of men by the Eldar folk, and I would like to see how it was I erred all these years not to merit such esteem as this Ranger has received."  
  
Arwen laughed aloud at his gaiety and then took his proffered hand when he offered it, and they continued their journey. When they had nearly reached the place where Éowyn and Faramir stood, Aragorn called out to them, and they both turned and smiled at the approach of their Lord and Lady.  
  
"Greetings, my King!" Faramir said, bowing low in reverence to his liege. "I must beg your forgiveness for this trespass, but my Lady and I have greatly desired a moment apart from company, and found the allure of the Queen's garden too great to resist."  
  
"No trespass has been made, Faramir," Arwen answered him, bowing her head gracefully towards him when he bowed to her. "These gardens are my own place of tranquility and are always welcome to be shared by such beloved friends as you and Éowyn are to Estel and I. Therefore, beg no forgiveness, and be at ease in our presence."  
  
Faramir sighed, and assumed a more casual stance, as Éowyn also did. "I fear I am not yet adjusted to being so informal when speaking with higher authorities, even on friendly matters, for such dalliances were frowned upon by Denethor, my father, and yet am I ever his son."  
  
Faramir's countenance seemed to weaken at mention of his father, and even as his eyes closed against the onslaught of memories, he felt the hand of Éowyn fasten more firmly within his own. He could feel her strength coursing through him, offering him protection against the fear and dread of things long past, and when he opened his eyes once more, his wife's own clear, blue eyes were fixed lovingly upon him, and she offered him a smile, which he returned.  
  
When at last he faced the King and Queen once more, he bowed his head and spoke softly to them, saying: "Alas, I am afraid some things have yet to fully mend, so stubbornly rooted within my soul are they. Yet, as long as my Lady should stand beside me, I feel the courage to overcome them. I must again ask your forgiveness, my Lord and Lady."  
  
"And again, none is called for, friend," Aragorn replied, laying his hand upon Faramir's shoulder. "Greatly did you suffer at the hand of your father, yet I say to you, healing shall come to thee through the plight of your troth, for so as the strength in Éowyn, your wife, slew the Captain of the Wraiths, so will it heal her husband's heart and mind. Peace shall come to thee, my brother, seek it not, for it has found you well."  
  
When he had ceased speaking, Aragorn gazed upon Éowyn, and saw the wisdom of his words reflected in her eyes, for in them was love, which was the only true means to restore an ailing spirit. And when she saw her King's eyes upon her, Éowyn bowed her head to him and said to her husband: "The King is wise, Faramir, heed his words. For I shall love thee unto healing as you love me unto the same. Faith and hope are ours to claim, so long as we cling to one another."  
  
Faramir nodded lightly, and gave Éowyn's hand a squeeze, and then turned to Aragorn and said: "My king and brother - blessed are you, even among the Kings of old! For wise are you, powerful and just, and in your hand are punishment and mercy equally dealt."  
  
Aragorn smiled and took Arwen once again by the hand, and said, "Come now, let us now take sanctuary in the green of the Queen's garden, and forget the worries of the world for a time."  
  
So, the two couples walked down the path, into the very depths of the garden, and there upon a small patch of grass, they sat and stayed for a time, until the business of the Kingdom once again called upon it's King and Steward. Arwen and Éowyn yet remained together in the garden for a while, and enjoyed the serenity of the time; for unbeknownst to them, the peace would soon be broken.  
  
  
  
A/N - Alas, error was made in the previous chapter, for it was that Éowyn and Faramir plighted their troth in Edoras in front of the new King, so this particular tale may be considered slightly AU. Forgive the mistake, and the brevity of this chapter, as more will follow. And to those of you who sent in reviews, let me extend my gratitude to you. Thank you! 


	3. A Threat to the South

Disclaimer: I don't own them; I only borrow them for a time in order to bend them to my infinitely cruel and twisted, malicious will.  Alas, dear Professor, forgive me!

Chapter 3 – A Threat to the South 

As the King and Steward entered the ornate chamber, which convened the high council of Gondor, all within the room rose from their seats about the grand rectangular table and bowed their heads to their leaders.  Both men strode into the room with purpose and took their seats promptly, indicating the others should do the same.  Aragorn took his place at the head of the table, and Faramir sat at his right hand.  When all were once again seated, Aragorn stood again and addressed the room.

"I have been advised by the Captain of the Southern Companies that a new threat has arisen," he said, his voice steady and grave.  "An army of Orcs has amassed near the Haradian border, and will soon embark on an invasion of our southern territories."

A gasp went out among the crowd at the news.  It seemed impossible that the Orcs remaining after the collapse of Mordor could organize themselves within a matter of months.  With no one strong enough to lead them, the Orcs within the former borders of the Dark Lord had scattered abroad, but apparently, many had managed to be gathered together within the unfriendly borders of Harad.  

"We must meet this threat, gentlemen," Aragorn continued, once the chatter had died down.  "I will lead the Army of Gondor to the south to engage our foes.  I have sent for my companions from the Fellowship, Legolas and Gimli.  I expect them to arrive two weeks hence.  We will ride out then.  Have you any inquiries?"

The King's chief military advisor, Galheln, arose, and cleared his throat.  "My Lord," he said, "As I understood, the Orcs of Mordor were scattered when the Dark Lord was destroyed.  I do not see how such an army, which could threaten our very borders could amass in such a short time since the fall.  We all know that barring strong leadership, Orcs are not prone to working together in large forces.  How can we possibly believe this to be true?"  When he had finished speaking, Faramir arose, and bowed his head to Aragorn, asking leave of him to speak.  Aragorn nodded his assent.  

"I understand your disbelief, Galheln," Faramir answered, staring kindly upon the man.  "But I assure you, the reports are accurate and come from the commander of the southern companies himself, who made haste to the White City after a small scouting party encountered this force ere one week ago.  They returned after suffering heavy losses and reported to Rathile that at the head of this army was a Black Númenórean, possibly the Mouth of Sauron escaped from the downfall.  We do not yet know with certainty the identity of this man, but we know that the Orcs   follow him with absolution.  They are at his bidding, and his eyes are fixed on Gondor.  Their army is moving slowly, though, and is expected to cross our southernmost border in three weeks hence."

Having spoken, Faramir returned to his seat and the room fell eerily silent, all within its confines far too stunned to speak.  A Black Númenórean was a mighty foe, indeed, particularly if he turned out to be the highest living servant of the Dark Lord.

Aragorn sighed, and looked around the table, taking in the astonishment upon the men's faces.  He perceived this would be a great shock to them, for he, too, had been completely befuddled by the news.  Yet, the reports were true and just one year since the end of the War of the Ring, the threat of shadow had returned to the land.  

Of course, Aragorn doubted not the ability of his army, since he had overseen it's rebuilding personally over the course of the year.  The men of Gondor were strong and well trained.  Nay, it was not the condition of his armies that worried him, it was the presence of the Black Númenórean at the Orc army's head.  If he truly were the Mouth of Sauron, the foe would be made even more formidable.  Aragorn knew of his powers, having faced and overcome the man at the Black Gates.  However, he would now be driven by vengeance, seeking retribution for the fall of his master and that alone empowered him far more than mere servitude ever could.  

"We will reconvene on the morrow and plan our course of action," Aragorn then said.  "Go home now and rest, we have much to do in the next few weeks, and many preparations to make."

Aragorn then moved out from his place and made way to the door, Faramir following closely behind.  When they had exited the room, the two walked together towards their respected quarters.  Upon reaching the point of separation, Faramir turned to Aragorn and the two men clasped hands, the grim reality of their present situation shining in their eyes.  They then parted, each to his own home to deliver the heavy news.

Upon entering his home, Faramir found that Éowyn had not yet returned from her daily activities and went into his private study to deliberate more upon the impending conflict.  It troubled him immensely that he would once again have to take up the sword soon after the War of the Ring.  Yet, in a way, it felt as if he were returning to a place he had lived all his life, then from it's comfort, been suddenly torn asunder.  Yet, no comfort ever was found in the making of war and Faramir found himself ill at ease with having to inform Éowyn that they would have to be separated once again.

Still, there was another possibility.  It was one that he was loath to consider under the circumstances, and yet he knew it would sit more peacefully with Éowyn than his having to be torn from her once more.  "Yes," he said to himself, "there is one other possibility."

"Faramir!" Éowyn's voice called out from behind him, startling him into standing.  He turned to face her and found her standing before him, curiosity etched upon her face.  "You are early, love.  I did not expect your arrival for another hour."

"I know," he answered, taking her hands in his.  "The council convened early."  He paused and looked keenly upon his beloved.  She was so beautiful, delicate and strong all at once.  He rued having to break this news to her, though it had to be done.  So, Faramir took a breath and continued, saying, "Éowyn, I have something to tell you.  An awful thing now brews to the south and I am loath to weigh you with the burden.  Yet, you must know."  

His voice was grave and bore an edge to it she had not heard it quite some time and it caused her to worry.  "What is it?  What has happened?" she asked, her expression now grave as his own.

Faramir sighed.  "War is yet again upon us.  An army of Orcs approaches the southern border of Gondor even as we speak.  In three weeks hence, our army will ride forth to face it."

Silence fell as Éowyn turned from her husband and ran a shaky hand through her hair.  She could feel desperation creeping upon her, and she fought to control the urge to scream.  She knew now what he was trying to convey to her.  The Steward of Gondor would be called to battle, and behind him, she would be left alone to face the demons of her past.  Already she could sense them, reawakening with the prospect of someone she loved again riding off to battle, leaving her completely powerless to watch over them or to fight, as her heart knew she could.  So was it ever for a woman.  

With a deep, steadying breath, she returned her eyes to Faramir, bearing a mixture of anger and fear in them.  "You have come here then to tell me we must again be parted, and that you must ride to battle, leaving me to fear for your safety; and should you not return, I would be bereft of all I love in this world."  

Faramir then reached for her, bringing her close and encircling her in an embrace.  He could feel her muscles tensing and her hands were grasping at his tunic as if by her very will the threat would go away.  Yet, Faramir knew that it would not, and he knew also that Éowyn could not be left to the machinations of a grieving mind, going mad with worry over him and with the desire to do her part in the defense of the realm.  So, it was that his decision then was made, and he lifted her face and gazed into her eyes, saying, "I have come to tell you that, yes, I must again ride into battle.  However, I will not depart knowing you would be left behind to suffer so."

"What then shall you do?" she asked, her voice weak and laced with sadness. 

Smiling tenderly, Faramir brushed his hand through her golden locks.  "I would have you ride with me, Éowyn," he replied.  He watched as her face transformed from one of despair to one of utter shock, then spoke again, saying, "Would you stay by my side through this trial, even though it may require both our lives be forfeit?  Will you bear the shield once more into battle, though not as Dernhelm, but as Éowyn, Princess of Ithilien?"

Éowyn then stared at him, mystified by his request and a light shone in her eyes, which were wide with wonder.  "Do you jest?  You truly wish me to ride with you into battle and would trust your life in my own hands, which are so very small?"

Faramir smiled and replied, "Small they are, yet powerful enough to defeat an undefeatable enemy.  Yes, Éowyn, I wish you to ride with me, as I trust no one more than you, above all with my own life." 

Éowyn then laughed and threw herself into Faramir's arms, allowing her tears to fall freely, which were wrought forth by the kindness of his words and by the faithfulness of his heart.  That he would ask her to ride beside him into combat was an honor greater than she could have imagined, greater even than if it were the King himself who asked it of her.  For no other esteem did she hold higher than that of her husband, and for him to trust his life to her hands in the thick and fog of battle was a precious gift, indeed.  

"Then I shall ride beside you, my Lord, and fail you not," said Éowyn, whose face became hard as stone in her gravity.  "I will lay down my life before I allow any ill to befall you.  I swear it."

Faramir sighed and held her close, inhaling the scent of her hair, which was as rose petals on a clear spring morn, awash with morning dew.  And the urge flared within him to order her to stay behind, but he pressed it down, knowing what rejection then would do to her.  Yet, the thought of her coming to harm tore at his heart, for he held no thing more dear than his wife, and he swore to himself that he would see himself dead before he allowed anything to happen to her.  "Let us hope it does come to that," he then said.  "Instead, let us hope for untainted victory, for any triumph would be in vain for me if the price were my bereavement.  I do not think I could withstand that pain." 

"Nor could I if I lost you," she whispered to him, stroking his face gently with her hand.

Éowyn then gazed upon him, seeing the conflict in his eyes.  She knew he wanted to forbid her from riding with him, but his love for her kept him from it.  But Éowyn could no more stay behind, knowing naught of Faramir's fate, than a tree reject the light of the sun.  Nay, she would ride into battle one last time, not for herself, but for her husband, whom she loved so dear.  And if they returned unscathed, she would thank the Valar for their kindness and return to a life of peace, never again to bare forth the shield.  

And so, Éowyn and Faramir retired to their chambers, wishing to spend as much time together as they could; and as they fell into sleep in each other's arms, they dreamed dreams of peace, and of children, and of togetherness, knowing not what the future held.  But so long as they lived, and so long as they loved, hope would never be far out of reach.  

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_A/N – Forgive me for the delay in posting this last chapter, but I'm working on 4 different stories at once and am making slow progress on all fronts.  But I will try and get this fic moving, as I have already written a later chapter, and have a good idea of where I'm going.  Anyway, review at your leisure and by all means, enjoy._


	4. The Ride South

_Disclaimer: I don't own them; I only borrow them for a time in order to bend them to my infinitely cruel and twisted, malicious will.  Alas, dear Professor, forgive me!_

Chapter 4 – The Ride South

Upon the dawn of the eve of the third week since the coming of word from the South, two companions arrived at the gates of the White City, mounted upon a great white steed.  And when the guards saw them there, they at once recognized the strangers.  They were Legolas and Gimli, old friends of the King, who had traveled to Gondor by his call.  And when they came at last to the King, he greeted them with a glad heart, and they spent many hours secluded from others and spoke of happenings and of the past and of the burden of longing.  But when noon had finally come and gone, the three friends removed from their place and made way to the council chambers, where a meeting was to be held finalizing plans for the journey to come.  

And as they came at last to the doors of the chamber, they saw there Faramir, with Éowyn at his side; their faces were stern and set.  This perplexed Aragorn greatly, for it was known of all nobility that barring extreme circumstance, only the leading men of the realm were allowed to enter into the High Council and sit therein.  But as Aragorn gazed upon their faces, he saw in them a steadfastness that would hold in spite of any rule or regulation, and knew then that nothing could keep Éowyn from her husband's side.  Not even her King.

Therefore, he approached Éowyn then, and said in a firm but caring voice: "My Lady, you know it is against policy to allow anyone but the high lords of the land into these chambers.  What is your business here?"

"Her reasons for being here are sufficient, my Lord," spoke Faramir then, and his hard tone took Aragorn by surprise.

The King raised his hands in a gesture of acceptance, and said then, "Peace.  I meant no offense, Faramir.  I only wished to inquire as to Éowyn's reason for attending this day, when so many vital things must be overseen.  After all, there are regulations…"Aragorn sighed, and glanced at Éowyn, whose face was calm and still and showed yet her fiery spirit, which ever-burned within her.  

Then Éowyn looked to Faramir and he returned the gaze, and their joint will was unbroken and resilient.  Faramir then replied to Aragorn, "Éowyn will ride with me and be my constant companion and aide, even upon the field of battle.  She will lay aside for a time the healer's raiment for the sake of her country, her King, and her husband.  It was I who suggested this, and I beg of you, my Lord, do not deny our wishes."

Aragorn gazed then upon Éowyn, studied her well, and found no fear or doubt upon her.  "Then this is your will also, Éowyn?" he asked.

"Aye, my Lord, it is my hearts desire," she replied, fixing her eyes upon Faramir and smiling upon him.  "I will protect my husband and forfeit my own life if need be."

"You are truly brave and valiant, my Lady, and your husband a blessed man," said Legolas, who was awed by the fierceness of her spirit.  "But let us hope it does not come to such need and that our cause will prevail."

Legolas bowed low to Éowyn and then Aragorn entered into the chamber, with Legolas and Gimli close behind; and then came Faramir and Éowyn.  And when the Lord and Lady of Ithilien stepped into the room, all of the high lords and councilors of Gondor were dumbstruck.  Some sat in utter shock, others gasped aloud, and some went so far as to stand in outrage at Éowyn's presence.  Yet she stood tall and proud beside Faramir, whose face bore no embarrassment, only pride.  

And when they all had taken their places at the table, Aragorn stood, and said unto them: "Behold, the Shield-maiden of the Mark, Slayer of the Witch-King of the Nazgûl rides again.  I will suffer no indignity towards her, nor will her husband, who is your Lord and Steward of this realm.  Therefore, be at peace, and take comfort that so valiant a warrior as she will fight for your cause."

The whole of the room fell silent, and Éowyn felt a faint blush grace her cheeks, and she clasped Faramir's left hand within her own.  He smiled then upon her, arising from his seat, and bid her also to stand.  Then he said, "I present to you now Éowyn, Princess of Ithilien and High Lady of Gondor.  Arise and give her due honor."

Then each man about the table stood and they all gave salute to Éowyn without hesitation.  She sensed then their acceptance of her, and returned their salute in kind.  But the business of the day now stood before them and so at the King's bidding, all took their seats.

Now when they once again were seated, Aragorn stood before them and his face was somber.  "As you all know, we will soon ride to the south to counter the threat to our kingdom.  Four companies will set forth from Gondor under the command of the King and Steward.  Our journey must be brisk, so we shall ride quickly as we can, stopping only for the sake of the horses, and even then only briefly.

This day is one of sorrow for us all, for we, each of us, must part from our loved ones and go again into the unknown fate of battle.  Yet, take heart in the strength of the people of Gondor, who have not come so far from darkness to return to its cold, chilly grasp.  We shall prevail."

Then Aragorn returned to his seat, and maps were drawn out and battle plans made.  And as the men of the council spoke long into the afternoon on the matters of the realm in the stead of it's King, and of the army of Orcs and the mysterious man who lead them, Éowyn's attention was only on her husband.  As he spoke, she heard the wisdom of his words and the beauty of his voice, which was sweet as summer song upon her ears; and she knew that she would face any hardship and endure any pain for his sake.  

And whenever the chance was presented, Faramir turned his eyes to Éowyn's, and they met there even and equal, as ever they were.  Their love for one another was plain to see, and no amount of effort able to hide the ferocity of their feelings.  And when she looked on him long, Éowyn felt the familiar desire for family come upon her.  It was always an unexpected thing, though it oft occurred, for she had never imagined herself as a mother.  But the need to have a child was a growing presence in her mind, and she knew not if it was her own desire to be a mother, or her fervent need to have all of Faramir she possibly could that caused the feelings to surface.  Yet, they were there, and she knew that if she came away unscathed from the perils of the future, heed would at last be given them.

How her husband felt about the issue, however, was what Éowyn did not know.  She suspected that Faramir's desire for a child mirrored her own, as whenever he saw children playing or heard the cries of an infant from afar, his eyes would sparkle and gleam with delight.  She was sure this same sparkle oft resided in her own eyes, and she wondered if Faramir had noticed it as keenly as she had.  But he had not once broached the subject, and Éowyn recognized that any talk of family would come by her own initiation.  And, indeed, if time was yet required before the bearing of a child was prudent, she would wait with hope and expectation.  

But other things now demanded her attention, and as the meeting continued into the evening, she bent her attention to the matters of the army and of their deployment and orders.  She found the information easy to digest, since she had been absorbed in matters of war since her earliest recollections, and that experience proved most useful.  

Long into the night, the council lingered, and when at last she felt she could stand no more talk of armaments and marching orders, Aragorn arose and said, "My friends and countrymen, tomorrow we ride south for the protection and freedom of all Gondor.  Rest tonight, spend time with your families, and on the morrow, be prepared for a long, hard journey."

Then Aragorn dismissed the council, and one by one, the men of Gondor arose, bowed to their King and departed each to their own home.  And when Faramir arose, Éowyn stood with him and took him by the hand.  Faramir bowed to him and Éowyn curtseyed, then Aragorn smiled brightly upon them both.  He also bowed low and then stood tall and straight, and when Éowyn looked upon him, she knew no enemy who came against him could prevail.  Gondor was in the capable hands of Aragorn Elessar.

And so, Faramir and Éowyn then took their leave of Aragorn, their King, and returned to their home in Minas Tirith, where they slept all the night in each other's arms and awoke at the dawn still clinging to one another.

Now, when the day of departure had come upon Gondor, the army was made ready and gathered at the gates of the White City.  And early on that morning, Aragorn Elessar kissed Arwen, his wife, and said his final goodbyes to her; and then he came down to the gates where he found Faramir and Éowyn awaiting him, along with many of his highest aides.  He approached them steadily and offered his hand to the Steward, who accepted it gratefully, and then he bowed to Éowyn, Lady of Gondor.

She was clad in a suit of the finest mail of Gondor, and it was bright and shimmering as if constructed of a thousand white diamonds; and upon her tunic was the emblem of the White Tree.  Her golden hair, loose and unfurled, hung low on her back and her eyes were twinkling and glittering in the sun.  And when she stood beside her husband, the noble Faramir, and their love was laid plain and bare for all to see, no couple seemed more handsome.

And so, Aragorn said unto her, "My dear lady, would that all things were so fair and true in their love as thee and thy husband.  Then so much more comely would the world of Men be."

But Faramir smiled, and replied, "O, that things were so!  But while cruelty and hatred and fear yet abide, hope and love have been returned right and fair; and the future is more bright than ever before."  

And as he spoke of hope, Faramir looked on Aragorn, and his heart beat proud.  Gondor was blessed by its King, so fair and wise in judgment, brave, steady, and courageous was he.  Yet, when he spoke of love, Faramir looked on Éowyn, and his eyes glistened and shone with joy, for in her, all his hopes and dreams were invested and made real.  If she alone had survived the fall of the world of Men, some good would yet have remained.  All good things were she, and she was every good thing worth having.  It seemed to him so simple a thing to love her, as it was so elemental to his heart.  

And as Faramir gazed upon Éowyn, he became lost for a moment in her beauty and in his love for her, and only the call of his name by his Lord awakened his senses.

"Will you accompany me out the gate, Faramir?" asked Aragorn, who saw the love-struck glance bestowed by the Steward to his wife.

"Of course, my Lord," Faramir meekly responded.  

Then Faramir fell beside Aragorn and the two walked together to the gates of Gondor.  Éowyn walked behind them, and then fell all others.  And as the gates cracked, then came open, and the men of the Army of Gondor laid eyes on their King, a cheer went up among them, which only quelled once Aragorn had mounted his horse and held his hand aloft for quiet.

All eyes turned to him as he spoke, and his voice was plain and calm.  "Men of Gondor," he cried out, "Today we ride to defend our homes and our families.  Let us be swift, for haste is needed!  We ride!"

Then Aragorn rode to the head of the army, where Legolas and Gimli awaited him; there also came Faramir and Éowyn, and the five of them rode at the head of the companies as they departed Minas Tirith and made their through the ruins of Osgiliath, and then took the long road south.

Many days long travel had passed when the army of Gondor came at last to the banks of the River Poros.  There, camp was made, and preparations begun for the ensuing battle, which awaited them five leagues southeast of the bridge over the river, on the Field of Lethinien, where the Orc army camped.  They had traveled 90 leagues in a dead race, and all were tired and weary from travel.  But the morale was high, and the spirit of the men was strong.

And so, when night had fallen and the men of the army slept, the leaders and captains of the companies gathered in the tent of command.  Four captains of the four companies of the Army of Gondor were there, and Legolas and Gimli were there also; Faramir and Éowyn sat side by side to the right of Aragorn, who sat at the head of a small wooden table.

For three hours, they discussed at length the plan of battle, and after much discussion, came to an agreement as to how the army would be fielded.  Three separate commands would be formed.  The northern company would be commanded by Galheln, whose own small army had linked with the others some leagues north of Poros.  The southern company would fall under the command of Aragorn, for it was generally conceded that the Orcs would attack the center first, and finding it strongest, would try and flank the Gondorian army to the south.  And so, command of the center companies was given to Faramir.

"I must warn you, Faramir," said then Aragorn.  "The first wave of attackers will be fierce and brutal, and your companies will suffer many casualties.  But you must hold.  Under no means are you to waver.  I suspect that once they ascertain the strength of our central ranks, they will press the attack elsewhere.  In that case, you must remain ready to detach a portion of your unit to assist wherever needed.  Yet, there is one factor we must consider.  This man that rides at their head - though we know not his true face, keep watch on him.  Wherever he is, there the strength of their army will be."

"Aye," nodded Faramir.  "I will keep careful watch of my lines and shall be ready at your call.  We will not give nor surrender any ground to our enemies."

The meeting went on nearly an hour longer before the group took leave and went to their tents to sleep.  But Éowyn did not sleep immediately, as her mind was churning with activity and she worried over the events that lay in store.  And so, she spent long minutes watching over Faramir as he slept, brushing her long, slender fingers through his raven hair and singing softly to him in the tongue of her people.

And when dawn arrived on the next morning and the first trumpets sounded, Faramir and Éowyn arose, and spent what little time they had left alone together.  Little conversation was made, little movement taken, and for a long while, they simply sat holding one another.  But at length, the second call came, signaling the army to make ready for the journey and battle to come; and so they stood and began to assemble their armor.

Faramir dressed quickly, being a soldier of many seasons, and Éowyn stood waiting, for his help was yet required of her in the assemblage of such intricate Gondorian armor, which was none too similar to the plain mail of her own people that she had worn during the War of the Ring.  And when at last he was suited, she looked upon him, so wise and kind and tender of heart.  His love for her was flowing from within him, and she could feel the strength of it penetrating her very essence.  And as she stood there, she stripped herself of clothing and stood naked before her husband bearing no shame.  And for a moment, Faramir stood motionless and admired her beauty laid so bare for him to see.    
  


Her golden hair laid against her bare back like gold upon the pure driven snow, and her face was soft and kind, and her eyes gentle and lovingly fixed upon him.  And her body was perfect and beautiful, no flaw or error in form or blemish visible to his eye.  Pale and lovely white was her skin, but smooth as silk, and it seemed to glisten with an ethereal light.  She was not physically tall, and he towered above her, but her slender, shapely form held power over him no man ever could.  Was this the body he had so often made love to?  That he held so closely to him at night?  How could it be that he had never seen how truly beautiful she was in all the days of their marriage?  Yet, he saw it then, and loved her more clearly and deeply than ever before as they stood then at the brink of war.

But his heart yet panged with despair at what danger could fall upon her in the thick of battle, where even so skilled a warrior as he may not be able to aid her.  The thought of any ill falling upon her was dreadful, beyond terrible, really.  And as he helped her into her armor, his hands trembled, and not until he had fastened the last of her mail in place did she notice.

Éowyn fixed her eyes then on his quaking hands and took them into her own.  Then she gazed sadly upon his face, which had become downtrodden and laden with frightful sorrowful.  "I cause you this pain by being here," she whispered, and her voice wavered with emotion.  

Faramir could manage no answer.

"O, my darling," Éowyn then exclaimed as she flung herself into his arms.  "I am so very sorry to have wrought this upon you.  I thought naught of this when I agreed to follow you into the midst of battle, where chance alone dictates fate."

"I thought naught of it either when I asked it of you," he answered softly.  "Not even until I saw you just now, standing here bare before me.  You seemed too beautiful and lovely a thing to follow me where I go, and while I do not think I could ever survive the pain of your passing, whether now or many years after this day.  Yet, for it to come at my own request would for certain be the sealing of my own doom."

Tears spilled down her eyes onto Faramir's shoulder as he spoke, for his sadness and grief was great; and she loved him so intensely that his pain was hers.  "Let us pray then that we come away unscathed, both of us," she said at length.  "For I also would will surely share your fate this day or the next and follow wherever you go, even unto death."

"Yes," Faramir whispered, nodding lightly, "let us pray."

And as they stood together, they whispered a prayer to the Valar, each on the other's behalf, and they held each other tightly in the last moments before they rode off to battle.  But when at last the final call of the trumpets was made, Faramir and Éowyn kissed, and the passion and depth of it was more so than any they had ever shared before.  Then they whispered to each other words of love and devotion, and exited their tent, made way to their steeds, and galloped away to where the three members of the Fellowship of the Ring and the Army of Gondor waited.

A/N – Forgive me for the delay!  Alas, sickness and other business tend to interfere in the way of musings, but I hope you enjoyed this last chapter.  Stay tuned for the next!  And last, but not least, if anyone with a good eye for editing is interested, I could use a test reader/editor to peruse my endeavors for errors in grammar and structure, and insurance of proper story flow and function.  Email me (rommydoo@bellsouth.net) if you are interested!  

Anyhow, adios, mis amigos.  Until next time. =)


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